


crestfallen on the landing

by indigo_stars



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Betrayal, Crystal Catacombs (Avatar), Enemies to Friends, Friends to Enemies, Gen, Interlude, Post-Episode: s02e20 The Crossroads of Destiny, Pre-Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Pre-Season/Series 03, Sad Katara (Avatar), Sad Zuko (Avatar), Zuko's Scar (Avatar), briefly, then uno reverse card
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28244916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigo_stars/pseuds/indigo_stars
Summary: She could still feel his scar, the distorted skin rough between her fingers. Then reality came crashing down; the fleeting feeling of hope vanished and the moment ended. Trust was broken, betrayal so thick they both choked on it.[or; Katara and Zuko, after the crossroads of destiny]
Relationships: Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	crestfallen on the landing

**Author's Note:**

> it’s sad avatar hours

Katara hadn’t slept in over forty-eight hours, though it could’ve been longer. Being chi-blocked had made her drowsy and unfocused. No matter how hard she tried, Katara couldn’t remember being dragged down into the catacombs beneath Ba Sing Se, nor could she recount just exactly how long she’d been down there, alone, before Zuko came tumbling down.

Before her world, already tilted off its axis, spun off course another couple degrees.

Under the chilly night sky, atop the soft fur of Appa, Katara prayed and hoped and cried as she felt Aang slip away and come back. The relief was immense and she ignored the strong winds blowing her hair left and right.

Her relief was short-lived, as there was still a lot of damage to Aang’s body. Lightning was something new to Katara; she’d never seen a firebender who was capable of such deadly power. Spirit water could only do so much — it had been able to bring Aang back from the brink of death, but the rest was up to Katara.

Which is what she was doing now, trying to get the water to knit muscle and tissue and nerves back together. It was a very slow, tedious process, and she couldn’t help but think it was her fault for completely disregarding the healing portion of waterbending when at the North Pole. Natural talent could only go so far.

All of her attention was solely focused on healing Aang, Katara barely noticed when she and her companions arrived to where the Water Tribe warriors were camping out. She completely ignored the way her father took charge the moment he noticed the grave conditions. Hours later, a Fire Nation ship was captured and headed away from the Earth Kingdom.

It wasn’t until Sokka and Toph came inside the room Katara was in with Aang and demanded that she rest. 

“You won’t be of any help to Aang if you pass out,” Sokka insisted, even as Katara protested. It wasn’t until Toph promised to monitor Aang’s breathing and heartbeat and to come get her if anything changed. Sokka gently helped her up by gripping her elbows and the siblings made it to the door before Katara wrenched herself from him and bolted down the hall.

Being surrounded by crimson and shadows of the Fire Nation ship did nothing to alleviate her fears of all the horrors and tragedies the world had faced. Still, there was something else building up inside her, something that had been growing slowly, day by day, ready to implode. There was an intense pressure on her chest, feeling as though there were a hundred rocks weighing her down. It felt hard to breathe. 

Katara burst into one of the boiling rooms, slamming the door shut before she sunk to the ground as the dam of emotions exploded. Tears streamed down her face as sobs wracked her body. She wanted to lash out and sink a hundred ships, to rage and scream at the hopelessness of it all. She wanted to turn her back on the world and be numb and indifferent. 

Anger wasn’t a foregin emotion. She felt it all the time. At Sokka, for being an annoying, used-to-be sexist of a brother. At Toph, for refusing to help and be helped. At Aang, for being immature and a child and dying on her. At her father, for leaving her and Sokka and the rest of their tribe, to fend for themselves. At the Fire Nation, for killing her mother.

At Zuko, for chasing her and her friends across the world, trying to capture the world’s last hope for peace. For invading and abusing her trust and pretend to be another broken child born into a war.

A war his family began.

So anger, yes, she was used to it. But the amount of rage in this moment, at this time, was completely foregin to Katara. It was a white-hot, boiling fury that was now being unleashed. It scared her to feel this way but she didn’t know how else to feel.

Try as she might, Katara’s thoughts took her back to the mere moments before everything went so wrong.

There had been a sort of peacefulness that hung in the air, fragile and unspoken, back in the catacombs beneath Ba Sing Se. The combination of Zuko’s clothes — gentle Earth Kingdom tones — his uneven, chopped hair, and the green glow of the crystals made him seem younger than Katara imagined. He always looked older — more fierce — in his Fire Nation armor, shooting fire at them. And the angry, red scar… 

_ “I see,”  _ his voice had been quiet. Subdued. His fingers had traced the scar, a seemingly autonomic motion, as if he couldn’t help it _. “My face.” _

There was a sort of reserved vulnerability to Zuko, down in the caverns. His eyes were calm. Not at peace, but filled with a familiar sadness that Katara couldn’t help but identify with.

_ “The Fire Nation took my mother from me,”  _ she had sobbed, hands clasping the last connection to the one she held most dear.

_ “I’m sorry.”  _ The response from the Fire Nation prince was the last thing she’d expected. It sounded so genuine and held a tone of understanding of someone who had experienced the same kind of pain before. _ “That’s something we have in common.” _

It was that connection that allowed Katara to lower the walls she had built. Zuko opened up in a way Katara never thought possible. Enemies weren’t supposed to seem humane. It was supposed to be black and white, good guys versus bad guys, but Katara found herself and Zuko dancing in shades of grey. 

She could still feel his scar, the distorted skin rough beneath her fingers. In a fleeting thought, Katara had wondered if Zuko could feel her touch, or if the injury was so deep that the nerves were damaged.

There was a lump in her throat and Katara tried to wipe away the tears rolling down her cheeks to no avail. They kept coming.

If there was one person Katara hated more than Zuko, it was herself.

She’d been so naive, believing in Zuko and second chances. Had she been more on guard, more aware, maybe she could’ve seen through his deception — because that was what it had to be, their conversation down in the caves. He had a knack of manipulating Katara’s ability to empathize, just like Azula, who was able to slip into Ba Sing Se without detection until it was too late. It must be a sibling trait, a family connection.

It was the only explanation Katara could think of, because people didn’t just turn away from intimate moments like the one the two teens shared.

Katara drew in a breath, hardening her gaze.

She’d been painfully naive and trusting, and it nearly cost her one of her dearest friends. She knew better now.

Katara had given Zuko the benefit of the doubt. She would not make that mistake again.

*******

He was back on a ship again. After three long years of sailing at sea, the smell of salt water was familiar and soothing. The wind blew gently in his hair. The ship glided along the water and the stars were reflected off the surface of the ocean, giving the atmosphere a sense of tranquility.

It was the opposite of what Zuko felt. There was so much turmoil and regret churning in his stomach, he felt like he might throw up. Tears threatened to spill out, but Zuko blinked them away rapidly. He hardly cried anymore, not since the fateful Agni Kai. He couldn’t afford appearing weak, but at this exact moment, Zuko wanted nothing more than to run to Uncle and beg for forgiveness, to curl up and cry and feel the warmth of his embrace.

Instead, Zuko wrapped his arms around himself, hoping to find some semblance of comfort. 

He did the right thing. It was something of a mantra that Zuko had begun repeating to himself.  _ You did the right thing. _ He didn’t have the Avatar — watching Azula strike him with lightning had frozen him with shock, and watching the Avatar’s body fall to the ground had sent him into a fit of despair. For how could Zuko come home without the Avatar?

He helped Azula defeat the Avatar and conquer Ba Sing Se. That had to be enough for his father, surely. His father would allow him to come home and restore his honor because Zuko  _ helped. _ He helped, he wasn’t a traitor. He could come home, he —

He could not forget the look of absolute devastation on Katara’s face as her friend fell, lifeless. Nor could he forget her look of utter betrayal as they fought and their elements clashed into steam.

_ “I thought you changed!”  _ she had screamed at him.

_ “I have changed,”  _ he replied back with a sureness he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

A sureness he certainly didn’t feel now.

_ I did the right thing.  _ Zuko continued his mantra. He wanted to shout this at her, to make the Water Tribe girl understand.  _ I had to, so I could go home. _

That was all he really wanted.

His fingers traced the edge of his scar, where ruined skin met smooth. Where she had touched him. He’d never let anyone touch his scar before, with the exception of Uncle. He almost pulled away from her hand, when it reached out.

Last time he let someone touch his face, his father lit it on fire.

_ “I always thought this scar marked me, the scar of the banished prince, cursed to chase the Avatar forever.” _

There was a brittle trust between the two teenagers, and Zuko had closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel the slight pressure of her hand. It was a struggle to not lean into her gentle touch.

_ “Spirit water has special healing properties.” _

_ “It’s a scar; it can’t be healed.” _

Oh, but how Zuko wished it could be.

He wished they had a little more time. Maybe then, by some miracle, it could’ve worked.

Then reality came crashing down; the fleeting feeling of hope vanished and the moment ended. The hope of being whole and free was ripped away; trust was broken, the betrayal so thick they both choked on it.

_ I did the right thing. _ The mantra continued, but there was a treacherous whisper in Zuko’s ear. Something that’s been in the back of his mind ever since he’d made the decision to side with Azula.

If Katara had healed him — or tried, at least — would things have turned out differently? Zuko wondered if he would’ve been convinced to join Katara and the Avatar, if the two of them had been given just a little more time.

Zuko shook his head vehemently at the thought. He could never turn his back on his country. On his family. He had a duty to both, no matter how he felt about it. And even if he could, it was too late. The Avatar was dead, and Katara would never give him the time of day again. Zuko would be surprised if she did.

He made his bed. Now he had to lay in it. No matter what the consequences he may face.

Still, the sight of her walking away, when she’d been so close to getting rid of the one thing that was a constant reminder of the worst day of his life, lingered.

One single, solitary tear slipped down Zuko’s unmarked cheek, and he wiped it away angrily. He didn’t know who he was more angry at — Katara, for not following up on the promise to heal his scar, or himself for blindly hoping for a miracle.

*******

**Author's Note:**

> is this title a lyric from taylor swift’s song “champagne problems”? yes, because she owns my heart
> 
> any kudos/comments would be greatly appreciated!
> 
> i’m now on [tumblr](https://indigostars.tumblr.com/) so feel free to come say hi :)


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